


Escape {Larry Stylinson/Doctor Who} NEW AU

by onedirectioninthetardis



Category: Doctor Who, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Coming Out, Crossover, Fanfiction, Future Louis, M/M, Sex in a TARDIS, Time Travel, Will Add Tags As We Go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onedirectioninthetardis/pseuds/onedirectioninthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles, 17, feels alone and depressed. He meets the Doctor and gladly agrees to tour time and space in the T.A.R.D.I.S. with the stranger in the blue box.</p><p>Who will he meet along his adventurous travels?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i. Prologue

I know that this is a pretty narrow audience I would be appealing to, but even if you aren't a Doctor Who fan, give it a try! I will be explaining things along the way so that even if you are not a Whovian, you will be able to understand. I'm really excited about this!! :D

Please comment after the prologue and let me know if it's something you would read <3 

 

**Harry Styles was just like any seventeen-year-old Londoner. He lived alone in a tiny flat with his mum, who couldn't really keep away from the bottle ever since his sister ran away. The thing was, Harry couldn't be himself; not even at home. He had been hiding his sexuality from everyone since he was fourteen. Well, he told his sister that he was attracted to boys, but he always swore that to be the reason for her leaving home two years ago.**

**It was getting to be a bit much, though. His only friend, Niall, was constantly bugging him about girls and his mum complained about him being home too often. So, Harry Styles made the brave decision to come out to the only two people who mattered in his life.**

**Only to have them both hate him.**

**His mum's initial reaction was to throw a half-empty bottle of vodka at his head. Not quite empty enough, since it knocked him out. He woke up in a pool of blood on the living room floor.**

        **Niall was only slightly kinder. He apologized for having to deal with his "problem" and added, _"I assume that you'll understand why I can't hang out with you anymore."_ Harry didn't. He didn't understand at all.**

**That's how Harry Styles found himself completely alone with a madwoman for a mother. He went to school, came home, and hid himself away, dreaming of a better life.**

**And that's why Harry Styles didn't have to think twice when he met a man named the Doctor, who offered to guide him through time and space in his blue box called the T.A.R.D.I.S.**

**Nothing was holding him back.**


	2. I. Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope that you'll find this story interesting, even if you aren't a particular Doctor Who fan or Larry Shipper. Just give it a try? xx

My name is Harry Styles and I don’t matter.

Not to anyone.

That’s why I’m sitting in History class right now, daydreaming of something better. The future has to be better, right? I won’t be some loser college lad with no mates for the rest of my life. No, that isn’t possible. Somewhere down the road, I’ll find people who accept me. A job that will give me the freedom to support myself and get out of my mum’s house.

I hate living in fear. I hate that everyday, I go home to the possibility of being beaten. Mum’s always been like that; Violent. Once upon a time, though, I had the ability to escape to Niall’s house. He’d let me come over whenever. Now, though, when I need him most, he likes to pretend I don’t exist. They say not to invest yourself in only one person because they’re bound to let you down. But, I never really had an option. Niall has always been my only friend.

I suppose it’s my fault anyway. If I wasn’t a _fag_ , then my mum would be a little more bearable and I’d still have my best friend. But, I can’t help it, so I’m stuck with no one.

“Styles!”

My teacher calls me out of my daze impatiently. I look up and the entire class is looking at me. Everyone except Niall. He’s staring at his book.

“Y-yes ma’am?”

I sit up straight and fold my hands on top of my desk.

“What was I just speaking of?”

I glance around at the eyes glued to me in annoyance. I shift my gaze to my textbook and search for a main topic that seems to stand out.

“Erm... You were teaching us about the French Revolution, ma’am.”

Everyone laughs (except for Niall, of course) and Ms. Hatch glares at me.

“Yes, Harry, that is the topic we’ve been covering all week. Right now, we’re discussing the rise of the French citizens against the king. What was the 'tennis court oath'?”

She closes her book and leans back against her desk, obviously assuming that she’s tripped me up. I never come to class and daydream without reading the material first, though. What else would I do at home anyway?

“The tennis court oath was made by a group of peasants who were accidentally locked out of a council meeting and thought that it was on purpose. So, they made a makeshift meeting inside of a nearby tennis court, pledging to revolt against the king for their rights.”

She clears her throat awkwardly and opens her book again.

“Correct. Try to pay attention, Mr. Styles.”

I nod solemnly and turn the pages in my book so that I’m on the right one.

I do a better job of faking it for the rest of class and before I know it, the last bell of the day is ringing.

“Alright, class. I will see all of you on Monday. Have a safe weekend.”

I gather my things slowly, standing up to leave only once everyone else has already done so.

“Um, Mr. Styles. The counselor would like to see you in his office. I was told to give this to you after class.”

Ms. Hatch forces a polite grin and hands me a small pink slip of paper.

 

_*Harry-_

_Please join me in my office after school... just to talk._

_~Jack :)_

_Room 134*_

 

I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a teacher, or counselor, put a smiley face on a hall pass. Or leave only their first name. I suppose I should find out what he wants.

“Thanks. Have a good weekend, Ms. Hatch.”

She nods and says nothing as I exit the room.

I walk down the halls as they’re emptying quickly. I follow the numbers as they go down. _142, 140..._

“Hey, faggot! Where are you going?”

I hear laughter behind the deep, familiar voice. _Faggot_ ’s a new one and I hate to think that he knows something about me. The name calling was enough when it wasn't personal. I turn around and come face to face with Jackson. He isn’t any taller than me, but he’s much more built.

“T-to the office.”

He’s never actually hurt me and I’m nearly positive that he only wants to intimidate me, but I know there’s always the possibility that he’ll take a swing. He takes a step back, though, and I’m able to see around him. On either side of him are the twins, Carson and Mark, his two accomplices. They’re always with him. 

But, behind them, is the one person I never thought could betray me so harshly as to hang out with the guys who always pick on me.

“Niall?”

He doesn’t look up, staring at his feet as they shuffle along the glossy tile.

“Niall isn’t your friend anymore, loser. Get over it.”

My lips quiver and I fight the tears that are begging to surface. I refuse to cry in front of them.

“Alright, well, I have to go.”

I turn around before Jackson can stop me, scurrying past the last few doors before room 134. I check the plaque on the door before opening it.

 

_J. Harkness_

 

I hear footsteps behind me and slide into the large office before whoever it is can catch up to me. I begin to catch my breath as the door shuts behind me. The office is dimly lit and a handsome man with dark hair is sitting at the wooden desk.

“Harry, glad you could make it.”

I stand awkwardly by the door as he stares at some papers on the desktop. He's American. The accent's clear as day. I’ve never seen him before. 

Then again, I’ve never spoken to the school’s counselor. I still would assume I would have seen him around the school sometime.

“Please,” he looks up and smiles brashly, “Have a seat.”

He sets down the files he’s been looking at and clasps his hands together, motioning to the seat directly across from him. I stumble over, still feeling shaken up by my encounter with Jackson. Worst of all, Niall’s face continues to flash through my mind; ashamed and sad, but still standing on the wrong side.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Styles?"

_No, everything is just fine. It's not like my mum hates me and my best friend dumped me because I was honest with him. Everything's grand; why do you ask?_

"I'm fine."

"Honest to him? About what?"

I scrunch my eyebrows and backtrack.

"I didn't say that bit out loud."

The man, Jack- I suppose, opens a drawer on the side of his desk and pulls out a brown leather flask.

"No. You didn't, did you," he swishes the flask and opens the cap, bringing it to his lips, "Just what the _doctor_ ordered."

I sit up and set my books down on the seat next to me.

"I'm sorry, but who are you? How did you know what I was thinking?"

I'm also pretty sure that school officials aren't meant to drink on the job. But, that's the least of my worries right now. I'm starting to wonder if he's even a real counselor.

"First things first; You've been having a tough time lately. Am I right?"

"Answer my questions!" I realize how loud I'm being and the fact that I'm gripping the armrests relentlessly, so I add a "...please."

I sit back and try to remain calm, which is difficult when you have a flirtatious man in suspenders reading your mind.

"Harry, my name's Captain Jack Harkness and I'm here to brighten your day."

"Don't be cheeky. You're avoiding the real question here. The important question." 

_Besides, no one cares about me._

"You'd be surprised. People do care about you... or _will_ care about you. That's beside the point. You deserve to be happy, though, Harry. Despite what you might think, you _are_ important."

"You did it again! What's going on?"

I stand up, slamming my hands on the desk, not even earning a flinch from Jack. He leans his office chair back and takes another swig of liquor from his flask.

"In due time, Harry. Way too much for one sitting. In fact," he glances down at his watch, "I believe your mom will be expecting you home pretty soon. Try not to provoke her. I know that it doesn't seem fair right now, but things are going to get better for you."

He stands up and takes a long coat from the rack behind him, pulling it on over his dress shirt.

"You'll see me again soon, Harry Styles."

He winks, presses some buttons on his watch, and in a flash, he's gone.

As quickly as I can, I gather my things and make a bee-line for the door. As soon as my hand is on the knob, there's a cracking noise behind me, almost like a spark of electricity. I turn around and Jack is standing in the same spot again.

"I almost forgot... It's probably best that you don't tell anyone about," he points his finger back and forth between himself and me, "this."

And then he's gone again.

Now, I have more questions than ever and absolutely no way of getting answers. Not until Monday, at least. I'll come back to his office on Monday and find out exactly who he is.

I run the entire way home. It's only about a kilometer away from school, but Jack was right; If I'm home late, mum will be livid and probably- no, definitely- will take it out on me.

When I reach my house, I've got no idea what excuse I'll use and my thoughts are a jumbled mess. I unlock the door and step through it, leaning against the column just inside, feeling disoriented and exhausted.

"Harry! Is that you?"

I shut my eyes and try to take long, deep breaths.

"Yes, mum!"

"You're home late!"

I take one last breath and enter the living room, finding my mum laid out on the couch, a bottle of vodka nearly empty on the coffee table.

"Where were you, you little twat?"

I clutch my books close to my chest and attempt a quick excuse.

"I-I had to, uh, go to the library. I have a history project and was looking for a specific book."

She rolls her eyes and massages her temples.

"I can't wait until you're eighteen and you can go get booze for me. You'll be good for something."

I swallow hard and stay standing where I am. If I leave without being dismissed, I'll only make things worse. Jack warned me not to provoke her.

_Why am I taking advice from a man I don't know?_

Either way, it's good advice.

"Well, don't just stand there. I'm sick of looking at ya."

I nod stiffly and walk off in relief to my bedroom. She was too done in to get off the couch and slap me around and I'm very glad about it.

Once I'm inside my room, I drop my books and backpack on the floor and collapse onto my bed.

I've had the weirdest day of my life and there's entirely too much going on in my head. I'm in desperate need of a good nap. Sleep is the only escape from my dreadful life; especially with all of these new, complicated ideas. There's one thing Jack said that I continue to repeat to myself until I drift off:

_People will care about you; you are important._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'm pretty excited about this story and I'd love feedback! <3


	3. II. Niall

Well, my nap ended up lasting the entire night. I woke up early for school, though, so I took a shower and now I plan on cooking a proper breakfast. As I round the corner to the living room, I find mum in the same spot as I left her: sprawled on the couch. The vodka bottle that was nearly gone last night, doesn’t even have a drop left. The only good thing about that is that she’ll be gone when I get home from school. That’s how it always works; she sleeps until two and leaves the house to get more liquor. If I’m lucky, she’ll stop at the market and get more food.

I walk over to the coffee table and collect the bottle, along with some food wrappers and dirty dishes. I balance the items in my arms until I reach the kitchen. I toss the garbage in the bin and quietly start to wash the dishes. Once everything is clean, I ransack the refrigerator, finding enough items to make a scarcely diverse omelet. I’m sure that if I don’t use these vegetables today, they’ll expire soon.

I heat a pan over the stove and quickly throw together enough food for me and mum. I set her omelet aside on a covered plate before eating my own and cleaning the kitchen. When I couldn’t find anything else to do before leaving, I wrote a note and left it on the coffee table.

 

_Mum, I left you breakfast in the kitchen._

_-H_

 

Hopefully she sees it before it’s completely cold, but she can heat it up in that case.

I walk outside while the sun is still coming up. Normally Niall would be waiting by the sidewalk, kicking a few stones around until I came out. It’s too early for that, though. I won’t see anyone on my way to school. Most of the students my age at Holmes Chapel Academy have cars already. I’m seventeen, but I don’t even have my license yet. It doesn’t bother me much. My life could be worse; it really could. So, I just need to be thankful for what I have. Sure, it isn’t much, but I’m not starving and I do live in a house. Mum wasn’t always as terrible as she is now, but more on that later.

As I rounded the first street corner of three, I hear a strange noise in the distance. It sounds like a whirring, but it keeps getting stronger and weaker, pulsating back and forth. Down the foggy road, I can see a blinking light and I begin to walk a little faster. Between heavy bits of fog, I can make out a large blue box. It’s a bit bigger than the telephone booths they have in the city and it doesn’t have any windows. There’s a light on the top, which is still blinking, kind of like a lighthouse.

“Hello?”

No one answers me and I feel pretty silly calling out to no one in particular. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but something tells me that this is unusual and important. I walk quickly, but by the time I’m within twenty yards of it, the box makes the loud, screeching noise and fades away within five seconds.

_Did I just imagine that? There’s no way it was real._

My hands and knees are shaking and I have a new motivation to get to school as quickly as possible. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. It wouldn’t be totally impossible. My sister, Gemma, always said that mum made her crazy after dad left. I don’t know if she was exaggerating, but it must have been enough to convince her to move to America.

I practically run the rest of the way to school and when I get there, a few students are arriving. As I cross the street to the school yard, I catch a glimpse of Niall in the passenger seat of Jackson’s car. I can’t believe that Niall is friends with him now. Jackson has picked on me since we were in grade 6. I’m pretty sure he’s even teased Niall before also. 

I’ve passed them already when I feel the force of something hitting my backpack, followed by laughter and words like, “fag”, “dumb-ass”, and “queer”, that last word coming from a voice that’s too familiar. I pull my backpack off to find coffee dripping down. The cup is laying on the ground next to me and I feel burning tears attempting to surface. I look up and see Jackson and Niall, laughing like lunatics as I pick up the cup and toss it in the garbage. I pick up my bag and make eye contact with Niall. I don’t say anything, but he knows what I’m thinking. _How could you do this to me? You were my best friend._

 

 

**_Flashback to the summer before grade 12 (current year):_ **

 

_“Niall? I-uh, I need to talk to you.”_

_Niall takes a sip of his lemonade and lies back in the grass. We’re in his back yard and the weather is absolutely perfect._

_“Sure, HareBear. What’s up?”_

_I lie down next to him and rest my head on my folded arms behind me._

_“It’s kind of a big deal, so like... I hope you can understand.”_

_Niall turns on his side so that he’s facing me, concern written all over his face._

_“Of course. You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything!”_

_That’s the boost I need. I have to just spit it out now._

_“I’m gay, Niall.”_

_His eyes widen in shock and he sits up instantly. He doesn’t say anything and I watch as he starts to stand up. My heart races out of control, more so than it already was._

_“Niall, wait! Please, just let me-“_

_“No! What the fuck, Harry? So, we aren’t just friends? Do you have some gay crush on me?”_

_It’s my turn to be offended and I stand up to be on the same level as him._

_“What? No! Just because I like guys doesn’t mean I like every guy. It’s just a general statement.”_

_Niall scoffs and walks away, toward his house._

_“Sure, Harry. I’m the only guy you talk to. You must have feelings for me-“_

_“No, I don’t, Ni! Stop being so full of yourself. I told you because I don’t want to hide who I am from you. It’s not a confession of my undying love for you!”_

_Niall continues to walk, ignoring me completely._

_“Niall, stop!”_

_I’m crying now; tears streaming down my face and the hiccups follow shortly after._

_“Just leave, Harry. I don’t want to see you ever again. You disgust me.”_

_I fall to my knees when he slams the door behind him. I sit alone in his backyard for a couple minutes, but soon find myself running home. The only problem with that is the array of questions my mum will have when I bolt in sobbing._

 

**_Back to present day:_ **

 

Niall had to have told him. How else would Jackson know to call me those things when his threats were always free of homosexual insults before? I can’t believe Niall would treat me this way, but I’m really starting to get used to it. It’s only one less friend. Unfortunately, for me, that leaves me with no one else.


	4. III. Anne

The rest of the school day wasn’t any better, even though I didn’t see Niall or Jackson again. I slept all afternoon yesterday, so I didn’t exactly do any of my homework. My maths teacher gave me an earful, as well as detention for all of next week for “incompletion of assignments and unnecessary daydreaming”. He wouldn’t see it that way if he had the same 24 hours that I have. I was also sure that I saw the tail end of the counselor (actually, I’m nearly positive he isn’t actually a counselor), Jack’s long coat, but as soon as I turned the corner in the hallway, he was gone. Maybe, I’m still imagining things. 

I make sure to leave school right after my gruesome Chemistry period, hoping to get a bit of alone time at home before mum get’s back. Assuming, of course, that she left to get more liquor. I want to get a head-start on my make-up homework and all of the new work I’ve been assigned. It’s difficult to get anything done when my mum is puking or screaming. No matter what horrible things she does or says to me, I feel like I have to at least _try_ to take care of her. She’s my mother and she’s fragile.

When I get home, the driveway is empty to my immense relief. I can’t hide the smile that surfaces when I know for sure that I’ll have some peace a quiet, even if only for an hour. I take advantage of her absence and set my books down on the dining room table. I walk over to the living room and notice the leftovers of the breakfast I cooked on the coffee table. I grin to myself, happy that she at least found the note and ate a meal. I gather the dishes and take them to the sink, washing them and putting them away in practically no time at all.

When I sit down at the dining table, I pull out my Maths work first. I start with the homework I missed and finish it in about thirty minutes. Every time a car passes the house, I freeze up nervously and wait to be sure it isn’t mum. It never is, but nearly two dozen cars pass each hour and it tends to give me anxiety. By the time I’m done with my newest Maths homework, an hour and fifteen minutes have passed and mum is still gone. Now, every time a car passes, I hope it’s mum. Now I’m worried she _won’t_ get home safe. It’s never ending. I’m either worried about her presence or her absence.

I sigh and try to turn my attention back to school, but this house is full of memories that I can’t escape.

 

**_Flashback to 1999, Harry is 5:_ **

 

_“Des, I can’t tell you enough: This isn’t okay! Have you forgotten that we have children?”_

_Dad smirks and falls over onto the couch. I grip my teddy bear, Boo, tightly against my chest at the thud resulting from his fall and stay hidden behind the door._

_“Anne, babe. How could I forget when you rub them in my face every damn time I do something wrong? Kids aren’t fucking pawns that you can use as a guilt trip against me just because we have a shit marriage.”_

_I don’t understand a lot of those words, but daddy yells really loudly at the end of every sentence. He isn’t happy and he keeps hiccuping and coughing. I think mummy calls it drank when he acts like that. It’s not very nice. Mummy doesn’t mean to make him mad. He’s like a big bomb; so loud and mean. Why is he so angry?_

_“H, what are you doing in here?”_

_Gemma whispers quiet enough that mummy and daddy don’t hear, but she still scares me. I jump and turn around with my eyes real big._

_“Shhh. I don’t want mummy to get hurt. I’m just making sure she’s okay.”_

_Gemma sighs and puts her arms around me, kissing the top of my head. She’s a good big sister and I tell everyone in my class that I have the best sister in the world. She’s a whole ten years old! I would cry a lot more if she wasn’t here. She makes it okay when I’m sad because daddy’s mean._

_“Harry, I have an idea. Follow me.”_

_I turn around and see mummy cleaning up the house while daddy yells some more from the couch. I take a deep breath and decide that she’s okay enough for me to leave for a little bit. I’ll check on her later._

_“Okay, but we have to be quick so mummy can tuck me in before bed.”_

_Gemma smiles and holds out a hand for me to take. I grab it and hold onto Boo with my other hand, following Gemma quietly on my tippy toes. Gemma leads me into her room and let’s go of my hand to open the curtains of her window. I smile and run over when I realize what she’s doing. We do this a lot when daddy’s mean. I hurry over and jump onto the window seat, leaving room next to me for Gemma. She walks over and sits beside me, cracking the window open and letting the cool air blow in. I lean over and lay my head on Gemma’s shoulder and she wraps her arms around me. Her hugs are the best, besides mummy’s._

_“Okay, H. Close your eyes with me, yeah?”_

_I nod and close my eyes tight so that it works. Gemma says it won’t work unless I listen carefully. It’s hard to listen with the crickets making so much noise._

_“Now, let everything go and focus on something great. Thing big, Harry. The best place you can think of. You can make it up, alright?”_

_I nod again and think really hard. Last time I dreamed of Disney World on the moon. We floated everywhere and Gemma and I were the only people there._

_“Okay, tell me all about your dream world, Harry.”_

_I lick my lips and feel an extra strong wind blow through the room._

_“It’s a planet, but it’s really far away. Like, near where Buzz Lightyear is from, but even farther. And it’s such a cool place, Gem. It’s got lots of people we can play with, but they’re all really nice. Me and you are the prince and princess, but everyone really loves us. And we have a store where everything is free to everyone and we sell candy and cake and toys so that everyone has fun. And I have a birthday every single month and mummy and daddy come visit us from Earth and when they come, daddy isn’t even drink. He’s so nice, Gemma! Like he used to be.”_

_Gemma sniffles and it makes me want to cry because I don’t want to make my sister cry._

_“Don’t cry, Gemmy.”_

_She giggles and ruffles my hair._

_“I’m not crying, silly. I really like your world. Just keep thinking about it and all the great things you can do there that you can’t at home.”_

_I smile and lean into her, dreaming of all of the friends I could have there. I’d bring Niall, of course. He’s my best friend. I try to keep myself awake long enough for mummy to tuck me in, but I can’t fight sleep any longer and drift off to the idea of my perfect world, so far away from here. I definitely wouldn’t have crickets; they’re really loud. Louder than daddy, even._

 

**_Back to present day:_ **

 

That next morning, mum had a black eye and dad was passed out on the floor. It went on like that for years. It got worse, really. Much worse.

But, now it’s been two hours since I got home and there’s still no sign of mum. It can’t possibly take her this long to get home from the store. I’ve finished all the work that I can and now I’m just reading ahead for history. I can’t help but to be worried and it’s distracting. I tap my fingers on the table and my leg shakes violently and out of control. 

When the phone rings, I practically jump out of my skin. Once I’ve gathered myself, I stand up and scurry into the kitchen, picking up the phone a little out of breath.

“Styles residence, this is Harry.”

“Hello, I’m Officer Brandywine and I’m calling to speak to a relative of Mrs. Anne Styles.”

My heart is racing and my mouth feels impossibly dry.

“She’s my mum, sir.”

“Well, son, I am sorry to inform you that your mother was arrested at fourteen-hundred hours today for driving under the influence of alcohol and possibly other illegal substances. She will be seen before a judge next Thursday after drug screens are performed and she will be held here until then. Now, how old are you, lad?”

Now my heart feels like it’s stopped. I don’t know what to say or how to react. It’s sad to say that I’m surprised. I shouldn’t be. This is so characteristically her. Well, her as of late. 

If I tell him the truth, god knows what they’ll do with me. I’m a minor.

“I’m eighteen, sir.”

“Good, then there shouldn’t be any immediate need for childcare. Are you in any close contact with family members?”

I sniffle and try to hold back the impending tears.

“Not really, but I’ll- uh, I’ll call my sister.”

I won’t call my sister. Mum’s caused her enough trouble for a lifetime.

“Very well. I’m sorry about this, young man. Contact me if you need anything or have any questions about your mother’s trial. Once again, I’m Officer Brandywine.”

“Um- thanks, sir. I appreciate it.”

Before I can think of the appropriate farewell, I hang the phone on the wall and sink to the floor.

I doubt even Gemma’s therapeutic daydreaming could help how I feel now. Even so, I close my eyes and think of my magical world. The one where Gem and I rule everything and have plenty of friends. Niall isn’t there now, though. I doubt he’d come even if it were a real place. Mum and Dad wouldn’t show up for my monthly birthday, either. I breathe deeply and pull my knees to my chest, keeping my eyes closed shut. Despite it’s flaws, that fantasy world is so much better than reality. It may be childish and simplistic, but I feel a calm set over me.

I can even hear the crickets.


	5. IV. The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read notes at end <3 xx   
> Sorry I've taken so long to update.

 

_The room is pitch black. In fact, I'm not even sure where I am. I do know it isn't my room, though. I can just feel that it isn't. It doesn't feel like home. I look around and search aimlessly for some sort of light. There's nothing and it's completely silent._

_"Hello?"_

_I call out and my voice echoes in the emptiness._

_"Hello, Harry," I deep voice hollers. It's echoing too and I can't tell where it's coming from. It sounds like it's everywhere._

_"Who is it? Where are you? I can't see anything."_

_I'm standing, so I feel around, trying to walk, but I don't feel anything. My legs won't move, either._

_"You don't know me yet, but you will soon enough."_

_The voice is eerie. It's a man's voice for sure, but there's nothing familiar about it. It bothers me that he won't answer all of my questions. He's selective in answering and doesn't seem to care at all._

_"Are we going to be friends?" I can hear the unsurety in my own voice and it's followed with a maniacal laughter circling me._

_"Friends is always a relative word. You and I, though, Harry, we'll be no such thing."_

_"That's too bad," I whisper, hoping that I'll wake up soon. I know it's a dream, but I can't move and I don't know how to wake myself up._

_That's when I hear a noise. It's off in the distance, but it's loud. The whirring is familiar too, screeching just like that noise I heard on my way to school. From that box I swore I imagined._

_"That's the Doctor," the voice sounds afraid, "that'll be my cue. Goodbye for now, Harry."_

_There's a whooshing sound and there's a new silence surrounding me. The voice is gone. Now there's a new one, though. A kinder one._

_"Hello! Harry, is it? Wake up, please."_

 

My eyes shoot open suddenly and I'm greeted by a pair of blue eyes in front of mine. I scream and scurry up to the top of the bed. The man jumps back and pulls his hands up to his chest in defense. You would think that _I_ startled _him_. 

"Who the hell are you?"

My eyes get used to the darkness and I can see a little better. The man brings his hands up to his own neckline and adjusts a bright red bow-tie. He's in a full suit actually, with dated pants and a tan tweed jacket.

"I am the Doctor; pleased to meet you, Harry Styles."

My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he continues, "That is your name, isn't it? God, if it isn't I'm quite sorry. You know, I know a lot of people and seeing as this is our first time meeting, it wouldn't be much of a shock for me to have buggered it up. If you need to correct me, though, I won't mess it up again. Is it Harry Styles? I swear that was what Jack told me."

It almost feels as though I should calm down the stranger in my bedroom because he's seems more anxious and excitable than I am. Wait, Jack. That's what the "guidance counselor's" name is.

"Jack? Captain Jack or something?"

"Yes! Good, I'm glad I got the right house. Could have been quite embarrassing if I had knocked on the wrong door. Well, knocked is probably not the best word. I would have, but I was also informed that I shouldn't wake your mother," he begins to whisper, "is she indeed asleep?"

"She's not here," the moment the words leave my mouth, I feel like smacking myself. Why did I just tell an intruder that my mother wasn't home? I told the man that broke into my house in the middle of the night that I, a seventeen year old kid, am all alone. There's something about him that just isn't threatening, though.

"Oh, good. I don't exactly like running into parents. It's never fun explaining to parents. Well, what are you still doing in bed, Harry Styles? Get up! Get up!"

I don't get up. I watch him instead as he starts to open my drawers, taking out a few articles of clothing from each, "Are you picky about clothes? If not, there are plenty of options in the TARDIS as well. You can pack a few things and then go from there. Well, come on now. You're still lying down."

"Stop!"

It comes out louder and ruder than I expected, but why am I concerned with that when a stranger is packing my clothes for me to go somewhere that I'm unaware of?

"I'm sorry, I haven't let you say a thing, have I? I tend to do that, so feel free to tell me to shut up when you want to say something. Go ahead, then."

He sits on the edge of my bed, one leg crossed over the other.

"I don't know who you are and I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm going to call the police, okay?"

His eyes widen and he stands up again, moving closer to the window. I'm not sure why I'm checking with him about calling the police. I suppose I want a real explanation.

"Jack didn't tell you I was coming, did he?"

I shake my head, more confused than before.

"That's so like him. He probably flirted a bit, cracked a few jokes, and totally missed the purpose. Was he drinking, by any chance?"

I nod this time and push my covers aside enough to stand up.

"Not surprising. I should have sent someone else, then. I'll remember that next time. Come here, Harry Styles."

I don't know why he continues to say my full name, but I listen to him and join him by the window. I still don't know what it is, but something is comforting and friendly about the intruder. Now I just sound insane.

"You see that box over there?" He points to the sidewalk to the left of my house, "That right there is my- uh, vehicle."

Okay, now _he_ sounds insane; but, really he has since he showed up here. It's just a box, though. From here I can tell it's blue, but that's about it.

"Um- you said you're a doctor? What kind of doctor? Not medical, I presume."

The man chuckles, "What gave it away?"

"You're a bit bonkers to be that kind of doctor."

He takes offense to that, "Am not. I just don't have the time to be that kind of doctor. Look, it doesn't matter. I have a proposition for you, Harry Styles."

I shrug and stare out the window at his supposed vehicle, "I don't know why I'm even going to listen to this since I still don't know who you are; but some weird shit has been happening the past few days, so tell me, what exactly is your proposition?"

"Don't worry; I'll answer all your questions later. Well, not all; but a decent amount of them. First, come with me."

I still don't know what I'm doing when I pull a shirt and shoes on and follow the man out my front door, "Did I forget to lock that?"

"No, don't worry; it was locked. I just have the right tools."

He pulls out a long metal probe-like item and presses a button on the side, making the tip light up green in combination with a whirring noise, "What is that?"

I reach forward to touch it as we walk side by side through my yard, but the Doctor flips it in his hand and slips it back in his jacket pocket, "Sonic screwdriver. Opens things and stuff; rubbish on wood, though."

I nod, pretending to believe him or even understand what he's saying. My mind is immediately distracted when we approach the blue box. It's the same exact box that I saw on my way to school. It has a light at the top; but, now I can get a real look at it. 

"Police Public Call Box. Wait, are you the police? If you are, I already got a phone call about my mum. I'm fine here alone."

The Doctor quirks an eyebrow and knocks on the front of the box, pulling back and snapping his fingers once. A door opens and I jump back a bit.

"I'm not the police, Harry. I'm just the Doctor and I want to show you something. Follow me," he walks through the door and I reluctantly follow, glancing around on the street in case one of the neighbors is out and sees me. The street is empty, though, as I step inside the box that doesn't look like it'll comfortably fit us both. 

"What the-"

"Do you believe in aliens, Harry?"

I shrug and glance around the humongous room. It doesn't make any sense. It's bigger on the inside; but, that just can't be. This has to be a dream. I'm sure of it now. I'll wake up like in the movies and it was a dream within a dream or some Inception shit. That movie didn't make sense to me, though, and neither does this. The room we're in alone seems larger than my house, and there are different sets of stairs leading off towards what look like hallways.

"Well, you should because you've been talking to one for the past twenty minutes."

My eyes stop scanning the walls, if you could call them that, and meet his, "Wait, do you mean you? You don't look like an alien to me," I scoff, obviously not taking him seriously. Then again, if this isn't a dream, then whatever I'm inside is not earthly.

"Well, how exactly would you know what an alien is meant to look like if you didn't even know if you believed in them, hmm?"

I shrug again. My vocal chords are useless right now and I can't focus on one thing. There's just so much going on and so much to take in. In the center of the room, near where the Doctor and I are standing, is a large metal console with about a thousand buttons, circling around a tall glass tube. I may not believe him that he's an alien; but, this structure is out of this world.

"You know; you didn't say the, 'it's bigger on the inside' bit. I love that part and you just didn't say it."

I step forward, still examining my surroundings, "I thought you would have already known it was bigger on the inside, Doctor. Since it is your 'vehicle' and all. It's kind of like Hermione's bag in Harry Potter. Is there a spell on it?"

The Doctor leans on the console, shaking his head tiresomely, "It's harder to shock people as generations pass. But, no, Harry Styles. Magic is not real; physics is real, though. Slightly advanced physics, of course; but, this _sexy_ girl is dimensionally transcendental."

That doesn't clear anything up for me, so I'll just continue to consider it a spell. If I'm correct, though, he just called this thing _sexy_ , which is quite awkward. Mum had a boyfriend once who used to say the same thing about his Camaro, and I definitely think that this blue box is much more qualified for that nickname. It's sleek and impressive; his dumb car was dull and broke down all the time.

"Let's say I believe you. Is this like your... Spaceship, then? Like it can go into outer space?" I question him, waiting for a legitimate answer that might actually prove something to me.

The Doctor whirls around happily, jumping onto the main platform and pressing about five different buttons in sequence while speaking, "This is my TARDIS; It stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space." He rests his hand on a lever and glances up at me, "We can go wherever and whenever."

At that, he pulls the lever and the box jolts, jostling me slightly. I grip a nearby railing and watch as the Doctor smiles gleefully up at the now-noisy glass tube. Something rises and falls and it almost sounds like the machine is breathing- in and out, in and out- and soon it stops. The Doctor steps forward with his arms behind his back, "Go open the door."

I stand still, undecided as to whether I should listen. My logical mind tells me that we'll still be sitting in front of my house and that this is some sort of intricate practical joke. However, my imagination and intuition tells me that I have no idea what's outside the door. That's more exciting than the former, and I wrestle with whether I should take the bait.

"Go on, then. Just go look; I promise you're safe."

I nod slowly, my mouth feeling impossibly dry. I wearily turn around and slowly walk toward the door we had entered through. I press my palms against it and take a deep breath before pushing it open gently.

I gasp immediately. We're somewhere entirely different than anything I've ever seen in my life. There aren't even pictures on the internet that look like this. The sky is deep purple and the ground is a soft yellow. I can't call the covering grass, but I assume it's an equivalent. There's only a field in front of me. The Doctor joins me, pushing the doors open wider.

"Come on, let's go outside!"

He steps out of the TARDIS, but I'm reluctant to follow. Instead I question, "Where are we?"

The Doctor turns to face me, walking backwards, "We're on the planet Jora, in the Ellemede Galaxy. You wouldn't have heard of it, though. It's very far from your home. Now ask the fun question!"

The fun question? What on Earth (or on Jora) could he possibly mean? He must notice my confusion, because he adds, "Ask me _when_ we are."

I swallow thickly and dare to step out of the TARDIS. The ground is soft beneath my shoes, "Alright, then. _When_ are we?"

"The year is 5054. That'd be, what 3,043 years later than what we just left?"

I cough and glance around, stunned. There's really no use in not believing him at this point. Why would he lie about the year when we're on a different planet?

I join the Doctor in the field, staring up at two moons in the sky. We stand in silence for a few minutes as I take it all in. It's all too much and I still have an inkling that I'm dreaming.

"So, Harry Styles. About that proposition."

I gulp and turn my head to face him, "What is it?"

He crosses his arms and looks back to the sky nonchalantly, "I'd like for you to travel with me."

My hands are shaking from some sort of mixture of fear and excitement. I'm still watching him, but he isn't phased at all. He's acting as if this is all commonplace to him, "Travel? Like... In time and space?"

He turns to face me and grins excitedly, "Exactly. We can go wherever you'd like: in the past, in the future, on Earth, a trillion lightyears away. You name it and we're there. And it'll be as if you never left. I can take you back to your house on the exact date and time we left whenever you'd like."

I don't really think about it, and my voice is barely audible, "Yes."

The Doctor jumps gleefully and honestly spooks me a bit. I'm not at all used to his overly giddy personality.

"Splendid, Harry Styles. This is going to be just great!" He turns around and approaches the TARDIS again. I follow him, a little disappointed that we can't stay here any longer. I stand in the doorway, leaving it open as he continues on toward the console, "Just two questions, Doctor."

He hums as he presses buttons on the switchboard. I take that as his acknowledgment and continue, "First of all: why do you want me to travel with you?"

The Doctor glances up as I finally shut the door and turn to him, "Well, I've been a bit lonely lately and I think we could both use a friend right now."

I take a few steps until I'm standing next to him at the console, "But, why me?"

He stops what he's doing and rests his hand on my shoulder. Surprisingly, I don't flinch, "Why _not_ you?"

"I'm not special. I don't matter."

His expression grows slightly angry, "You're very special and very important, Harry. You'll know that soon enough," he speaks to me as if he knows me and it's going to take some getting used to, "Now what was your other question and then we'll be off."

I smile, unsure of myself and touched by his kind words, "My other question is... You're the Doctor; but, Doctor who?"

The Doctor only laughs and pulls the lever. This time I'm prepared as the TARDIS whirs to life and I hold onto the console, finally smiling as well. I have a good feeling about this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that if you are not a Doctor Who fan, this may be a little confusing, but it's kind of supposed to leave a bit of mystery in it, because that's just how Doctor Who is... Questions get answered eventually and some are left unanswered, but if you're confused on the basics of the Doctor, comment and I'll answer them unless them are major spoilers. :) Also, I recommend watching an episode of Doctor Who from seasons 5, 6, or 7 because that's the Doctor I've chosen to use in this story. If you don't want to watch the show, then just stay tuned.
> 
> If you ARE a Doctor Who fan (and also if you're not) I'm dying to see what you all think of the first chapter the Doctor is in. Please leave feedback <3 kudos are also much appreciated if you are enjoying the story :)


	6. V. The TARDIS

“So, Harry Styles,” the Doctor twirls pointlessly and leads me through twists and turns of endless hallways within the TARDIS, “Down this way is the pool and that way is the library.”  
  
I don’t know why he’s telling me all of this; I lost track of the rooms about an hour ago. At first, I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic when he told me that the guest wing was to the right. I mean, I accepted that it was bigger on the inside, but I hadn’t gathered exactly how much bigger. It’s unfathomable really.  
  
I still can’t tell when he’s being serious or not. He’s flamboyant in his behavior and everything he does is for dramatic effect. I’m not accustomed to getting used to new people; my circle of peers has been completely constant for as long as I can remember, and I don’t have friends. It’s all so new to me. I feel embarrassed to even speak, but this seems to baffle the Doctor. He keeps telling me to speak up and “own my words”, whatever that means. Either way, it’s nice to have someone who supports my personality and everything that comes along with it.  
  
The Doctor leads me back to the console room. It doesn’t even make sense how the hallways work; it seems like they move when we do. Either way, we find ourselves back at the console, and the Doctor leads me down a small set of stairs to a rugged couch. He sits down clumsily and crosses his legs, motioning for me to sit as well. I awkwardly settle in on the opposite side, my hands folded anxiously in my lap.  
  
“So,” the Doctor adjusts his bow-tie and smiles, “Have you decided where we’re going first?”  
  
I shrug casually. I really haven’t had time to think about where I want to go; It’s all been so overwhelming and I have no clue where we should begin.  
  
“I don’t know. Do you have any favorites? Anywhere you haven’t been yet?”  
  
The Doctor chuckles mindlessly, “Well, the Universe is vast and when you add time into the factor, there’s no way I could see it all. However, I have seen plenty. Are you thinking past or future?”  
  
The first thing I think of when it comes to time travel, is seeing all of the things I’ve read about in history books. Most places are simply too typical, though, so I try to dig deeper and finally admit, “I really have no clue.”  
  
The Doctor hums in thought, grazing his defined chin with his fingers, “Well, tell me a bit more about yourself. I suppose I don’t know much quite yet.”  
  
I shrug again, because no one ever asks me about that. I’ve never had to explain myself to someone; my likes, dislikes, hobbies, preferences.  
  
There’s one preference I’d prefer not to share just yet. I want the Doctor to actually get to know me before he can only think of me as gay. Who knows how his planet views that.  
  
“I like music a lot. It’s my passion, I suppose and I love to sing. I’m a huge fan of classic artists; like from the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Music’s always been my escape-“ I pause and glance up; the Doctor is smiling and listening intently, “At least it was before you came around.”  
  
We both chuckle and he gives me a pressing look that begs me to continue; so, I do, “I’ve got a sister in America who I haven’t seen in years. Don’t know where my dad is. He’s been gone since I was little; always had a drinking problem. Guess it was contagious, because my mum-“ I don’t know if I should continue. Maybe he doesn’t actually care about all my problems. I don’t want to sound like I’m whining and complaining. The Doctor motions his hand for me to continue, though, and I decide that it wouldn’t hurt, “My mum’s in jail right now. For driving drunk. She does it all the time; I suppose it’s high time she got caught. It’s sad, but I’m sort of relieved she’s out of the picture, even just for the time being. She’s really mean when she’s drunk, which is all the time.”  
  
“Harry-“ I raise a hand, bidding him to stop.  
  
“It’s alright, Doctor. I don’t need sympathy. I’ve learned to take care of myself.”  
  
The Doctor scoots closer to me, draping his arm around my shoulders, “That isn’t the point. Sympathy isn’t a bad thing. It just means that someone cares.”  
  
I simply shrug, unsure of how that helps me. Maybe I’m not aware of the good caring can do, but I’ve never been a recipient.  
  
“Then, thank you, I suppose,” I glance up and the Doctor has a sad smile on his face.  
  
“No need to think me, darling. Now,” and he bolts up, back to the same energetic man that has been bouncing around since I joined him, “We need to think of a time and place. You need to have some fun. How’s about the roaring twenties?”  
  
He pretends to dance like a flapper girl, and I stifle a laugh of embarrassment.  
  
“Or perhaps,” he paces the floor, finger over his lips thoughtfully, “the fifties! The 3050’s, of course. Splendid time to be alive. Particularly on the planet Siron, actually. Wonderful place. Come on, now. Give me some feedback!”  
  
I chuckle and stand up, opting for leaning against the wall behind me, “Well, I guess we could start off with something in the future. I feel like that would be comforting.”  
  
The Doctor nods before turning on his heels to face me, “Comforting, how?”  
  
“To see the world as a better place,” I mutter, my eyes cast to the floor.  
  
“Well,” the Doctor drags on, his hands behind his back, “It’s not as simple as that. Planet Earth has its up’s and down’s. What changes would you like to see?”  
  
I shrug, because I feel like he knows I’m hiding something. I’m not sure why I am, though. This man (alien) dragged me out of my house to come with him. I kind of have the upper hand, it would seem. I’m still terrified that he’ll hate me.  
  
“People treating each other with dignity and respect,” I mumble distantly. He has to catch on at some point.  
  
“Well, that’s a broad statement. There’s no part of Earth’s long history where that just happens, Harry. If you’re specific, maybe I can-“  
  
“Never mind,” I cut him off, irritated with myself for hinting at the idea more than anything, “Let’s just go to the sixties. The 1960’s, to be exact.”  
  
The Doctor squints and adjusts his bowtie, “That would be the opposite of what you said you’d like to see. The 1960’s were a splendid time in the sense that people were changing the world, but it definitely wasn’t changed at that point.”  
  
“I want to go there,” I repeat myself, firm in my random resolve. I’m not sure why I choose the sixties. I suppose I’d like to hang out with some hippies and go to Woodstock. I’m not sure why, but the sixties sound like a good idea.  
  
“Alright, the sixties it is. Now, where would you like to go?” he takes the stairs up to the console and starts pressing buttons. Suddenly, I feel nervous. For some reason, I’ve felt like this discussion was only preparation for a future trip. But, no, the Doctor is rearing to go.  
  
“I- um, I don’t know!” I frantically follow him, my legs feeling like jell-o, “Surprise me.”  
  
“Alright,” the Doctor smirks, flipping a switch and pulling a lever, “New York City, 1969. Geronimo!”  
  
.........  
  
When the TARDIS stops shaking, the Doctor looks up and grins brightly, “We’re here. Open the door. Take a look.”  
  
I nod slowly, gulping as I turn to face the door. I tell myself it’ll be okay. I’ll open the door, and somehow get used to the idea of being in a different place, in a different time.  
  
“Don’t be afraid,” the Doctor whispers, now standing right behind me, “Be brilliant.”  
  
I push the doors open and step out, finding myself in a back alley. I can hear music, though, and it smells different. Not that I’ve been to New York City, but maybe that’s the point.  
  
As I turn the corner onto the main road, it’s strange to look at the city in such a time. The colors are vibrant and the scene is crisp, unlike any footage or pictures of it. That makes sense, but it’s still unreal.  
  
“Is this-“ I can’t continue, but I feel the Doctor’s hand on the small of my back.  
  
“Yes, Harry,” his voice is quiet for once, “It’s real. We’re at the heart of a revolution.”  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's hella short, and I'm sorry... I just wanted to update you guys with SOMETHING. I'm working on the next chapter soon. I'd love feedback to help me sculpt this story xx kudos would also be nice :*
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.harryisproudoflouis.tumblr.com)


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